Say Geronimo
by Well39
Summary: UsOz. Jett is Oz. A series of requests that kinda just melded together, starting with two dorks meeting at a party
1. Chapter 1

Request for a song and a ship - "Geronimo" by Sheppard

* * *

Jett stumbled away from the speakers, ears ringing and a wide grin plastered across his face. His veins were thrumming with excitement, but his body ached from dancing, and he figured it was time for a break. The music pumped through the ground and the throng around him. Dodging between dancers, he ducked and weaved his way away from the stage, pushing through the crush of bodies until he burst out the other side with a whoop. He threw his head back and sucked in a gulp of fresher air, not caring that his legs were now entrenched in mud, or that the sun was starting to peek through the sparse foliage of the bush.

Once he'd caught his breath, Jett wandered over to his campsite, eager for a drink and a possible change of shirt. 'Possible', because the rain had hit hard earlier, and he wasn't entirely sure if his spare clothes were dry yet. Halfway to the tent, there was a shout, and he was bowled over. Another body slammed down on top of him. He gasped for air, flailing under the weight pinning him to the soggy grass. As sudden as it had come, the load lifted, and Jett found himself able to breathe easily again. He rolled onto his back and coughed, a hand grasping his and helping him to sit up.

"Dude, you okay? I swear it was an accident, I'm so sorry."

Jett, who was about to tear whoever had pushed him a new one, felt his flaring temper doused as quick as it had been lit. Curiosity at the babbling American twang drew him to wipe the muddy water out of his eyes. What he saw when he looked up was a large build, blond hair, and concerned blue eyes peeking over the top of glasses - all splattered with the same mud that now covered Jett from head to toe. He looked to be around the same age as Jett, but there was a softness about him. Definitely a tourist, he decided, groaning as he clambered to his feet.

"I wasn't watching where I was going! There was a weird bird, and the music is so loud and- "

"I'm alright mate, just watch where you're going next time, yeah?" Jett cut him off

"Are you sure?" The American was doubtful. "I mean, no offence, but you're covered in mud, and you don't have any shoes, and well, I would offer you a towel or something but…I didn't exactly bring anything…" his voice trailed off sheepishly.

"You're not much better off yourself." Jett laughed.

The tourist looked down, and his eyes widened. "Oh."

"As for the thongs," Jett continued, "I lost them somewhere in the mosh pit. There's another pair over at the camp, so don't worry 'bout it."

His wannabe benefactor froze, eyes slowly creeping up to meet Jett's. "You, er," he coughed. "You wear thongs?" There was a slight flush around his cheeks and neck.

"'Course I do." Jett said, confused. "What else are you gonna wear round here in summer?"

The American's flush deepened. "So, it's a, um, a _heat_ thing, then?" he stuttered.

It didn't click for another moment, but then Jett realised. He grinned inwardly.

"Well, yeah. I mean, you could go bare," Jett watched the other with amusement. "But what with all the creepy crawlies, I wouldn't recommend it."

"Creepy crawlies?" Jett struggled not to laugh at the squeak in the American's voice. "They get in there?" His face had lost its colour.

"Relax. They won't bite unless you bother them first." The poor boy was pale as a ghost now, and his hands had started a slow creep towards the seat of his pants.

Eyes watering, Jett fought to hold back the laughter, but it was useless. He didn't even try to disguise the snort that burst from his nose, and was soon shaking with mirth as the tourist looked on, baffled.

"Thongs," Jett managed, still sniggering, "are flip-flops."

The American continued to stare for a second longer, then comprehension dawned. The flush returned with a vengeance, and he scowled at Jett.

"Har-de-har. Not cool, bro."

"Sorry, sorry," he apologized, his wide grin betraying him. "Look, you don't have any other clothes right?"

The tourist shook his head.

"Why don't you come back to my tent, and I'll get you something to change into?" Jett offered.

"Why?" asked the American. "You don't even know me."

He grinned further. "My name's Jett, you?"

"Alfred."

"Well nice to meet you, Al, and I'm sure we'll be great mates. Welcome to the outback!"

Without further ado, Jett grabbed Alfred's arm and dragged him along behind him. Once they reached the tent, Jett wasted no time in stripping out of the soaked T-shirt he was wearing and chucking it to the ground. Turning, he found Alfred's eyes on him and waggled his eyebrows.

"Like what you see?" he struck a pose, flexing the tanned muscle of his chest.

His new friend bit his lip, and shrugged. "I've seen better."

Jett clutched at his heart. "You wound me."

A gleam in his eye, Alfred too rid himself of his wet shirt. He posed, kissing his biceps. "How you like these guns?"

"Ah, a man after m' own heart," Jett simpered, in his best impression of a southern belle. Alfred laughed.

"One sec." Grabbing a couple of new shirts from the tent, Jett re-emerged to chuck one to Alfred. "Don't put it on yet," he warned.

Already half dressed, Alfred paused.

"You're still covered in mud, mate." Jett laughed. "We should head down to the creek first and wash off a bit, don't you think?"

Eyes lighting up, Alfred pulled the fresh shirt back over his head, knocking his glasses askew. "There's a creek here? Why didn't you say so sooner?"

Jett grinned and slung an arm over Alfred's shoulders. A slight shiver ran through him as their bare skin touched, but he ignored it. "I can see we're going to get along fine."


	2. Chapter 2

"What are you doing?"

Jett's fingers were busy struggling with the button of his shorts, and he didn't look up. "What, you got togs on ya?"

Alfred frowned. "Togs?"

"Swimmers, mate." Jett managed to work the button free, and dropped the shorts, kicking them over to a rock near the water's edge where they would be able to dry. The sun had finally breached the tops of the trees, and heat was radiating down, already warming the morning air.

"Oh. No."

"Then I'd recommend you start stripping. 'Sides," Jett flicked him a wink, "we're all men here."

Alfred shook his head. "Already you want me out of my pants," he quipped, unzipping his jeans. "Here I thought you were a gentleman."

"I am bloody offended by that accusation. I have never claimed to be anything of the sort." Jett admired the view as Alfred stepped out of the pants, sighing with disappointment when a smart pair of boxers were revealed. "Y'know, we could always go skinny-dipping," he suggested.

The American snorted and removed his glasses, placing them with the pants and spare shirt at his feet. Jett wrenched his gaze away from the man's blue eyes and turned to the rocky slope.

"Hi-ho-hi-ho, off to work we go," he sung, heading off ahead.

The creek was a small one, surrounded by large sun-baked boulders, the water carving out a path between them. Jett led Alfred, helping him climb down the steepest parts, until they reached the flat, gritty rocks at the bottom. The water was clear, flowing over polished stones to gush out of a small waterfall and pool in a swimming hole before them. It wasn't more than 20 meters wide, but cool and deep, just right for a hot day. Sharp edged grasses clung to what little dirt gathered on the rocky surface, the ends trailing in the water. They stood on the edge of a boulder that jutted out over the deepest part of the pool.

"You ready?" Jett asked, eyes sparkling.

Alfred flashed him a broad smile, latching onto Jett's hand and giving his heart an excuse to stutter in his chest. "Bombs away!" he shouted, pulling Jett with him as he jumped over the edge. A shriek fell from Jett's lips as he was tugged forward, quickly turning to a gasp as his skin hit the icy water. Without time to prepare himself, water filled his nose, and he came up spluttering.

"Shit that's cold!" The sound of Alfred's laughter filled the air as Jett wiped water out of his eyes. He splashed at him in revenge, but the American simply ducked under, re-surfacing further away.

"You'll have to do better than that!" he called.

Jett quirked an eyebrow. "Is that a challenge I hear?"

Alfred beamed. "You bet it is!"

Swallowing a laugh, Jett stopped paddling and switched to a wide, free stroke, and had reached Alfred's position within seconds. He kicked water at him as he swam by, stopping once his hand touched the opposite wall of the swimming hole. He turned to face Alfred, a wide grin splitting his face and a gleam in his eye.

"Let's race."

They kept even until the 20 lap mark, then Jett's stamina began to win out. He was used to long swims in the ocean, and while Alfred was faster, he couldn't match the other's endurance. Once they hit 30 laps, Alfred waited until Jett was going past and grabbed his leg, pulling him under. Jett got his own back, and from there it dissolved into a kind of underwater wrestling that left them both choking and gasping for air, with no clear winner decided.

They floated on their backs, arms by their sides and hair floating in halos around their heads. The sun beat down, reddening their faces and chests, and Jett squinted against the glare. It was a clear day. Though they were a fair way away from the stages, the faint sound of music drifted on the breeze. It mixed with the bubble and rush of the creek, and the tiny splashes they made as they moved. Something brushed against his hand, and Jett glanced over. Alfred's finger tickled against his once more. Jett felt his stomach flip, but Alfred appeared not to have noticed, his eyes closed and face glowing with a satisfied smile. Swallowing, Jett turned over in the water and dived down, feeling along the pebbled bottom as he waited for his nerves to settle. He stayed there for as long as his lungs could handle before bursting back into the air with a gasp.

"Hey, Al," he called.

The American didn't open his eyes. "Hnn?"

"Wanna check out what's behind the waterfall?"

Alfred's eyes flicked open, and in a flash he was at Jett's side. "Do you think there's a cave? I bet there is," he chattered away as they approached the overhang of rock from which the water cascaded. "There might be treasure in there, or a map."

Jett let his face sink into the pool to hide his smile before bobbing up again. "Why don't you go first then?" he offered.

Alfred didn't question him, eagerly sticking his head through the rushing water. "I'm not giving you any treasure if there is any," he warned, voice echoing. "But damn, it's dark back here. I can barely - _FUCKING HELL_!"

Jett's grin turned to outright laughter at Alfred's shout, and he gripped the rocky walls to keep himself afloat. Alfred backpedalled away from the waterfall as fast as he could swim, eyes bulging and face white.

"Dude, there's a - a fucking - Jesus Christ!" Alfred's horrified stuttering only made Jett laugh harder, and the American turned to glare at him. "What the fuck dude, this is serious! We have to get out … of here." his voice trailed off. Comprehension flickered on his features. "No way."

Jett nodded, tears in his eyes.

"That was _fake_?" Alfred was incredulous. "How did - what - you knew it was there?"

"My mate Kaelin, he set it up." Jett explained, trying to control his breathing. It took a few more seconds, but he gathered himself, swam over to the entrance and gestured for Alfred to join him. He did so, hesitant.

"You're sure it's not real?" he asked.

Jett just smirked and pulled him through the sheeting water. They came through on the other side and Alfred cursed, gripping Jett's arm. Jett shook his hair out of his eyes and looked over to the inner wall of the small space, where he knew the spider lay. It was huge, about the size of his arm, with spindly legs, glistening black fur, and enormous fangs dripping with what looked like venom.

It was also a rock.

Alfred's grip was becoming painful, so Jett tugged free to swim forward and stroke the deceptive outcrop, ignoring the slime under his palm.

"See?" he said, turning back around. Alfred stared at him, then to the rock and back to him.

"But it's so black," was all he managed.

Jett laughed. "Kae got some ochre - a soft rock you can paint with - and did it up. Scared the shit outta me the first time I saw it too."

He saw relief fill Alfred's face, and some of the tension left his body. He chuckled a bit, and swam over to join Jett, looking up at the spider. "It's so real," he said. Then he smiled. "I gotta show Mattie this."

"Mattie?" Jett asked. He was growing conscious of the enclosed space, and how close their bodies were. His chest pounded.

"My brother," Alfred said. "I came here with him and his boyfriend, Gil, but I lost them somewhere before I ran into you."

"Literally," Jett said with a wry smile.

Alfred turned and grinned, radiant even in the shifting light drifting in through the curtains of water, and Jett's smile faded. The American's eyes shone, the blue in them reflecting from the pool. Droplets glinted in his golden hair and the ends of his eyelashes. A stray strand of hair was flopped over his forehead, dripping slowly.

Jett's hand moved to tuck the hair behind his ear before he realised what he was doing. Alfred's eye's widened, but he didn't move away. Heart battering at his ribs, Jett let his hand drift down to stroke Alfred's cheek, and felt his throat close when the other leaned into the touch.

"Shit," he muttered, his voice echoing in the small cave. "I think I want to kiss you."

It was Alfred's turn to swallow. "What happened to the second date rule?" he asked, flushed.

With his free hand Jett drew them closer together, until the skin of their chests met. A thrill ran through him at the contact. They were only centimetres apart now, their breath mingling in the chill air, eyes locked.

"No such thing," Jett breathed. He trailed his hand from Alfred's cheek to his chin, and tilted his face upwards. A shiver ran through him as he saw the look on Alfred's face. "Now shut up."

Their lips brushed, and the shiver turned to blinding heat.


	3. Chapter 3

Kinda almost nsfw here. Take care.

* * *

That summer was the best fun Jett had ever had. He and Alfred were practically inseparable.

Sometimes they tagged along on Gilbert and Matthew's dates, making bets and harassing them. Sometimes they took long walks out into the bush, camped under the stars and talked for hours on end, just enjoying the nature. Sometimes they stayed home, cuddled under a pile of blankets, spilling popcorn and chocolate everywhere as they fought over which movie to watch.

No matter what they did, they didn't leave each other's sides for more than a day.

Towards the end of the season, Jett decided to throw a party. He organised everything, and within the space of two days, it was set up and people had arrived. He told Alfred it was just for fun, but really he wanted an excuse to show off his new boyfriend. Alfred knew what he was doing. He went through the rigorous examination of Jett's friends and family with good humour.

They spent the night dancing and laughing. Alfred tried a beer, curious about the taste. His horrified expression as the drink hit his throat was the cause of much laughter and ribbing for the rest of the party. Jett couldn't keep the grin off his face.

Somehow there ended up being an improvised arm-wrestling competition. When Alfred finally managed to extract himself from Kaelin's grip, he ignored the calls for a rematch and dragged Jett to a quiet corner of the house. Music and laughter drifted down the hall behind them, but they were deaf to it, gazes locked. The dim light lit on the planes on Alfred's cheeks, and Jett reached out to caress the soft skin. He leaned into the touch with a slight grin. Neither of them had forgotten their first kiss.

That night was the first they spent together as lovers.

Jett savoured each brush of skin, each press of lips, each soft exhale. After, they lay in the tangled sheets, high on the afterglow, and Alfred drifted off to sleep. Jett watched him. He watched the way his breath slowed and deepened. The way he smiled, gentle, even as he slept. The way his eye's flicked behind the lids, chasing some impossible dream; of space, of pyramids.

Of places far from here.

Jett watched, desperately memorizing everything he could before the sun broke over the horizon.

When morning came, he kissed Alfred awake, whispering greetings against his lips.

Later that day, at the airport, they stood outside the departures terminal with their hands locked. Gilbert and Matthew waited on the other side of the gates, patient. Jett struggled to speak, words deserting him the one time he needed them.

Alfred's smile was taught as he pulled him into a tight embrace. Jett was stiff at first, surprised, and conscious of the public place. As he felt Alfred's bury his head in his neck, everything melted away, and he brought his hands up to grip in the fabric of his shirt. They held each other there, Jett breathing in the smell of sunshine and soap and _Alfred_.

Gilbert called for him to hurry, and they broke apart. Alfred's hand lingered in Jett's, until he pulled away with a last squeeze.

He didn't look away as Alfred walked through the gates. He didn't look away as he boarded the plane. He didn't look away until long after it had flown into the distance, disappearing into the few clouds in the bright blue sky. And if, when he returned to Kaelin in the waiting car, his eyes were puffy and red, it was not mentioned.

Six months later, Jett stepped off the plane. His feet had barely touched Californian soil before he barrelled into Alfred's waiting arms.


	4. Chapter 4

This was the first 'kind of' connecting thing I'd ever done, and it was never meant to turn out like this. Hope you enjoy. Drop a review if you feel like it.

* * *

It was the perfect evening for a get-together.

Jett and Alfred's backyard was filled with their family and friends milling around in groups. The breeze was cool and smelled of fresh grass and wood smoke, a welcome relief from the heat of the day. Music filled the air and Antonio twirled a laughing Feliciano in the middle of the yard, their bare feet dancing over the cool grass, his cheerful voice calling out for Lovino to join them. Lovino watched from the side, leaning against the fence. He glowered even as his feet tapped along to the beat, and a small smile tugged at his lips.

Matthew sat on a log near the empty fire pit, squished firmly between Gilbert and Francis. Alfred grinned to see his brother's exasperated face as the two fought over who would get him a drink. Francis was still protective of Matthew, even after he'd moved out. Eventually he would get fed up and make them behave. For now, it was a competition between friend and boyfriend, and it wasn't going anywhere.

Ludwig eyed Arthur warily as he manned the barbecue at the end of the veranda, making sure he didn't turn their meal to charcoal. At the moment, it smelled of buttered onions and sausages, and had most of the guests casting hungry glances in its direction.

Alfred leaned back into the wicker of the outdoor couch and smiled as Jett snaked an arm around his waist, not looking away from Kaelin as they argued. The New Zealander had made the trip over to America last week, and was staying with them while he was there.

"… What I'm saying is, you can't just put it down the back!" Jett gestured emphatically with his free hand, almost losing his grip on the neck of the beer bottle. Alfred had long since given up on trying to get him to use cups.

Kaelin sighed. "What do you want me to do, ignore the bloody thing?"

"If that's what it takes, yeah!"

Alfred wrapped his arms around Jett's neck, leaning his head on his shoulder from behind. "Can we, I dunno, talk about something else?"

"Sorry," Jett turned his head, "I didn't mean to be so loud." Alfred watched his eyes crinkle at the corners as he smiled, the sun-weathered skin expressive even at 22. Their faces were only centimetres away from each other, and he felt his heart beat with a now familiar excitement.

This. This was what he lived for.

These easy days, surrounded by friends. Family. The spontaneous adventures they would take. The nights they spent wide-eyed in front of a horror movie. The lazy afternoon breakfasts. Jett's quick grin and ready laughter. Everything, all of this, was what Alfred wanted, and his chest swelled as he looked into his lover's eyes.

Kaelin coughed into his hand.

Jett kissed nose and stood up, flipping his friend off. "I'd better check the old man hasn't wrecked anything," he said, eyeing Arthur.

As he wandered off, Alfred scooted closer to Kaelin. "So?"

"So," he agreed. They exchanged a glance.

The heavy black of Kaelin's tattoo's shifted as he moved his arm. Alfred watched the intricate patterns with fascination. Maybe he should get some.

"I have it," Kaelin brought his attention back to the issue at hand, pulling a small box from the jacket hung over the back of the couch. There was a question in his eyes as he handed it over. "But are you sure?"

Alfred's heart stuttered as his fingers closed around its smooth surface.

Was he sure?

This was…well, it was a Big Deal. Worthy of capital letters. The Biggest Deal of his life so far, and he wanted it. He really, really did. But was he ready?

He didn't know.

"Not a clue," he told Kaelin. His grin was shaky. "But I'm gonna do it anyway."

"Peas in a pod," Kaelin muttered. He smiled as he dropped an encouraging hand on his shoulder. "It'll be fine."

Alfred nodded, a little too hard, a little too fast, and stood. "Right." He took a deep breath. And another.

Jett was grinning, poking Arthur in the ribs as the older man tried to turn the sausages without dropping them. He looked up as Alfred grabbed his arm and tugged him away from the barbecue.

"Al?" his voice was amused.

Alfred pulled him to the centre of the yard, and stood facing away for a second longer before he gathered himself and turned. Everyone was looking now, the conversation's dying out. Jett's smile was confused, but there. Always there.

"I wanted to do this at the Superbowl," Alfred chuckled to himself, looking around them at their silent audience, "but this'll do."

He tightened his grip on his hands for a second, and stepped back.

"Jett, I love you."

Jett's eyes widened, and he flushed a bit, glancing around in anticipation of the cat-calls and wolf-whistles that followed such statements in a group like this. But none came.

"Well, I," Jett seemed to think a response was necessary. "I do too, but-"

"I love you," Alfred continued, not letting the relief he felt from Jett's statement show on his face. "We've been together for a few years now."

"Four years," called Matthew, and Alfred glared at him.

"Okay, fine, four years."

Still slightly flushed and bewildered looking, Jett laughed. Alfred's chest thrummed with nerves, but he smiled to hear that sound.

"You make me so mad sometimes I feel like I could explode. You're always getting into trouble. Always coming home hurt, injured from some stupid stunt. And I'm not much better," he admitted when Jett glared at him. "Neither of us are good at that whole patience thing. Which is kind of why I'm doing this now."

"I don't get it," Jett said. He shifted feet and tugged at the frayed bottom of his shirt. "What are you trying to say?"

"I…" Alfred's mind went blank, the practiced speech deserting him.

He struggled to find the words, and, mind scrambling, said the first thing he thought of. "You are stupid and impulsive and an absolute dork and I love you."

Well that sure wasn't what he'd planned, but it would have to do.

Unclenching his hand from around the small box, Alfred sank to one knee on the grass, his heart in his throat. Jett's eyes bulged.

"When I'm not with you, I feel numb. There's no colour to anything." He managed to open the box without his hands shaking. The ring sat nestled snug in the white velvet inner, a simple gold band.

Jett breathed out, a heavy exhale of air. His cheeks were pale with shock, and Alfred's stomach twisted. Maybe this hadn't been such a good idea.

Swallowing, he pressed on regardless.

"I don't want to spend the rest of my life as blind as I did before we met. I want to grow old with you, and I want to be there to patch you up after you get hurt, and for you to be there when it's my turn." he prayed to god that wasn't the sound of his voice catching. "Jett, I want to be what makes you smile when you're sad, because that's what you do for me."

Jett was staring at him. He had been the whole time Alfred was speaking. His face was blank, but there was something in his eyes, something Alfred couldn't identify.

He took a deep breath.

"Will you marry me?"

There was a moment of aching stillness, where the whole yard was silent and waiting. Alfred could hear his heartbeat in his ears, and he thought for a second it was too much. Too fast. He'd lost him.

Then Jett knocked him to the ground, arms squeezing tight around his waist. His shoulders shook, with laughter or tears Alfred couldn't tell, but it didn't matter, nothing mattered, because Jett was nodding, and he was saying yes. He was saying it again and again against the fabric of Alfred's shirt, and the yard had erupted into cheers and shouts of congratulations, and he'd dropped the ring box but he didn't care. He just lay there, with Jett's arms around him, and he laughed. Kaelin had managed to procure a video camera from somewhere and was filming the whole thing, an enormous smile on his face.

Eventually, Alfred sat up, Jett still firmly latched onto the front of his body. Jett lifted his face, and his eyes were red and his skin was blotchy and he was amazing and perfect and he'd said yes.

He'd said yes.

"I love you." Alfred said again, filled with joy. "Will you marry me?"

Jett didn't hesitate, didn't break his gaze, as he brought their lips together. The familiar electric rush of heat filled him, and he would never get tired of that feeling. He kissed back with fervour, cradling Jett's face in his hands. They ignored their friends and lost themselves in each other. When they finally broke away, they were both breathing hard, and Jett's eyes were big and dark and sparkling. He brushed their lips together once more, and breathed the word against Alfred's skin.

"Yes."


End file.
